Reckoners
by Heir of the void
Summary: A boy. He has no Dark Past, no Traumatic Backstory. He is simply mildly peeved at the current world order, and wishes to petition for a redress of grievances. Kinetically. When a shadowy organization offers him the opportunity to become the first testbed for a novel bio-mechanical combat system, he agrees. But when this new human weapon is forced to attend the ISA... who knows?
1. Chapter 1

**I've noticed a disturbing lack of good I.S. fic, which is a shame because the background world has a **_**lot**_** of potential. So I decided to take a stab at the 'Anti-I.S. Weapons System' story. **

**With a Twist, of course.**

**On with the show!**

**[x]**

I floated. There was nothing around me, not even blackness in any meaningful sense of the word. It would have been boring, had it not been for the timelessness that suffused the non-place that I occupied. It was tranquil, peaceful, and-

Gone.

I returned to consciousness slowly. I was aware that I was lying on something cold, and as my mind warmed up and my memories returned, I remembered that it was a slab of metal, specifically designed as the ultimate tool for surgical analysis.

"Kelwin." A hard feminine voice said. "Kelwin, can you hear me? Groan if you can."

"Uggghhhh." I said. I am nothing if not eloquent

"Good. You survived." The voice of the director said. "I was worried the implantation would not be successful."

"Was it?" I groaned, feeling my strength and lucidly returning to me with surprising speed.

"Yes. The last of the nineteen of the project organs were implanted successfully." The Director said. "Congratulations, Kelwin. You are Humanity's first Cuirassier."

**Reckoners**

**Chapter 01**

A week after I woke up on the operating slab, I was still in surgical recovery.

I suppose I should introduce myself. I am Kelwin Highstorm, sixteen, and previously no one of note. I attended school, was oppressed, studied, read, and built models of a better age. I was more intelligent than most, I suppose, but not the sort of genius that changes history.

Why, you might ask, was I oppressed? It has something to do with the Infinite Stratos Combat System, a flight-capable powered exoskeleton capable of decimating most modern military equipment and, for an unknown reason, impossible for a man to pilot.

Of course, you know that. You also know what happened to the social and geopolitical order of our world when it was introduced. I was lucky enough to be born and raised in the U.S., shielded from the worst of the disruption that occurred when the I.S. was introduced.

Not that that did anything to protect me from the socio-economic effects of the Infinite Stratos. Arguably, it actually worsened those, but that's a point for another day. It never really bother me, though, because it was all that I had ever known. Sure, I had read about a world where men and women were equal, or even where men were considered superior, but I never really understood what that would mean. No secondhand textbooks, no glares on the street, the possibility of casting a vote in two years... I never really understood, on a visceral level, any of those things.

I guess I believed the government information service when they said that things were better than they ever were without the Infinite Stratos.

That was all until the Directorate found me.

What is the Directorate?

In short, they are a Cabal with the U.S. government, and a few others, that contests the current Brave New World.

They formed after the introduction of the Infinite Stratos and the White Knight Incident from the ruins of the Military-Industrial Complex and the Intelligence community. They started out siphoning hundreds of billions of dollars from western governments in the chaos following the White Knight Incident, and now survive off of the careful investments and front companies they established with that money.

They told me about the way the world really was. About how the Infinite Stratos concentrated too much power in the hands of a few people, about how the world had changed, in remarkable time, to suppress nearly half the population. It was a real eye-opener.

And then they invited me to become a Cuirassier.

Somehow, in total secrecy, they had developed a weapons system they believed was able to rival the Infinite Stratos.

It was an artificial biological system comprised of a string of nineteen surgically implanted organs which allowed the recipient to manifest a hulking battlesuit of flesh and nanosteel. I wasn't clear on the details, but it used some version of the I.S. system's digitalization effect to convert the battlesuit's mass into a memory, which, when regulated by one of the implanted organs, could be projected in and out of three-dimensional space.

The rest of the implants either regulated or generated some aspect of the battlesuit, or else changed by body in some way necessary to support the changes that would occur when I activated the battlesuit system. Apparently, I was still genetically human, but physically I was something else. The Cuirassier system was a weapon, one that could not be separated from its host.

And I had let them implant this in me.

It was still pretty cool.

As I lay in bed, I looked down at myself. I didn't even have scars from the months I had spent unconscious in surgery, a side effect of the implantation of the Quantum Mind, War Mind, and Noble Mind organs in my skull.

Absently, I clenched my fist, pressing my fingernail into my palm. It didn't hurt. Apparently, my body's minor to moderate pain responses were still chemically disabled, or else I'd be writing in agony as the final integration of my implants occurred. Apparently, I needed to be conscious for best results. That was one of the reasons I was still spending most of my time in bed; the doctors didn't want me to hurt myself.

The door of my room opened, and a girl carrying a heavy tray loaded with food walked in, pushing the door open with her foot.

It was Nora Adams. She had overseen by surgery, not to mention much of the recovery of the data on the Cuirassier system after the Professor went and killed himself. She was a tall girl of seventeen with pale skin and light brown hair, and a mischievous smirk on her face.

"How's my favorite patient today?" Nora asked, setting the tray down next to me.

"You're not a doctor." I said. "You can't have patients. Other than that, I'm fine."

"Good." She said. "Because there's been a change of plans. Eat up, you'll need it."

"What do you mean, a change of plans?" I asked.

As far as I knew, the plan was for the Directorate to use me as an assassin, covertly eliminating I.S. pilots and advancing our goals from the shadows, like a super Special Forces agent.

"Well, that won't work anymore." Nora said. "We had a leak, someone who anonymously released some of the details of the Cuirassier system to the press."

I bolted upright. I didn't want to be dissected!

"What do they know?"

"They think it's a covert U.S. weapons project." Nora explained. "And we've moved some assets around to reinforce that impression. But they also know the official projected specs for Battlesuit system, though those are pretty inaccurate."

"And what are we doing about this?" I asked.

"The leak has been plugged." Nora said. "Permanently, though I doubt he's dead yet. As for the future, that's a little unpleasant."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the world has decided that the Cuirassier system is on par with an I.S. in terms of power, though we have no idea whether that will be true. Anyway, they've decided to send you to the same place they keep all the other I.S. users."

"What do you mean?" I repeated.

"They're demanded that you be sent to I.S. Academy."

"...What?"

"Oh, and the Japanese found a male I.S. pilot while you were out. Just an FYI."

[x]

It had been a week since I found out I was going to I.S. Academy, and I was still mad. As I ran on the treadmill (20 miles per hour, ten degree incline), I considered why exactly that was.

Certainly, my life would be in less danger at the ISA than it would have been otherwise, and my life would probably be easier. However, I had signed to fight, not to be turned into some kind of public display. It was infuriating.

Nora looked up at me. "Are you sure you're not pushing too hard?" She said. "You weren't exactly in the best shape after spending all that time unconscious."

"I'm fine." I muttered. "There is nothing wrong."

"You're pain responses are still turned off." Nora said. "That could be influencing your-"

"This isn't even that hard." I said. "Really, that muscle thing really works."

"The Musculature Gland." Nora said. "You know what its called."

I shrugged. "I just have to know how to use it, right?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean-"

"And besides, the less I know, the less I can reveal under torture." I said. "So if I'm going into enemy territory, isn't it better if I know less?"

"About that," Nora said, "I'm coming with you."

I nearly fell off the treadmill. "What do you mean?" I exclaimed.

"I know the Cuirassier system better than anyone alive." Nora said, crossing her arms. "And it's not out of the question that something could go wrong. I need to be there to stabilize you if your implants get out of whack."

"Alright." I said. "But what about the danger of sending someone who knows the Cuirassier system as well as you do into enemy territory?"

"I won't crack." Nora said. "Besides, the danger is immaterial. You need me."

"What do you mean?"

"Nevermind." Nora said quickly. "Anyway, we need work on the cybernetic enhancements for your battlesuit soon."

The Cuirassier system, while formidable on its own, was no match for an I.S. unit without cybernetic wargear. The enhancements consisted of a base layer of armor, thrusters, and shield generators, with a modular loadout of weapons and enhancements to the base gear. I wasn't sure exactly how the implantation process would work, though.

"How soon?" I asked.

"They're warming up the forge for you." Nora said.

[x]

The cybernetic enhancement was rather boring. I was unconscious for most of it.

[x]

I stood in the underground arena, facing down a woman I had never seen before. She was a U.S. Military I.S. pilot, though I couldn't remember her name. In a ring of glass-enclosed rooms surrounding the arena, the science team that had recovered the design specs and details of the Cuirassier waited with baited breath.

The day had come at last for me to transform into my fully upgraded Cuirassier form. The cybernetic enhancements were fully integrated, and I had finished recovering from my surgery. It was time.

"Armor on." I muttered.

Deep inside my brain, my Quantum mind activated. Energy surged through my body, activating my Quantum Driver. As mass began to pour into realspace around me, my Black Carapace began to interface with it, giving it from.

My body began to swell, pinkish flesh quickly covering my clothing. As the bulging flesh covering my body began to darken, it took from, shaping into a human figure. Discrete metal plates appeared over the surface of my body, and as the battlesuit took shape, weapons began to form on its body.

In under a second, the transformation was done. I stood there, sixteen feet tall, and covered in interlocking metal plates. My armor was painted jet black, with crimson red highlights, and extended over the joints in jagged spikes. My legs were rather bulky, though they were lined with thrusters that comprised much of their mass. My arms were long and muscular, with heavily armored pauldrons and wicked, claw-like hands. The back of the battlesuit bore a thruster pack, with six wings, three evenly spaced on each side, extending outward to the sides, with a glowing red disk in the center matching a similar disk on the front of my chest. My head was predatory, sharklike, with glowing green eyes and a crest extending backwards.

As my vision recovered from the transformation, readouts began to appear across my vision. Power distribution, shield strength (200 points, around a third the power of a standard I.S. shield), threat analysis, weapons systems, and more. I had been trained on what the Heads Up Display would be like, but it was still slightly disorienting.

In front of me, the I.S. pilot activated her system. She was surrounded by a soft glow for a second, then stood before me in her exoskeleton, a standard Raphael Revive configuration painted olive drab.

"Alright." She said. "Try taking a step forward."

I closed my eyes and concentrated. I didn't want to mess up _walking_ my first time in a giant not-robot. That would be pretty pathetic.

I raised one foot and placed it in front of the other. Then I did it again for good measure.

"Very good." The pilot said. "Now, try taking off. Hover in midair, but don't do anything."

With an act of will, I activated my gravatic systems. They were capable of generating somewhat more than one G of acceleration, enough for hovering and basic maneuvers. Slowly, I began to 'pull' myself upwards.

For a normal human, it would have been very difficult to balance the forces on something as asymmetric as a combat cyborg, but I was anything but normal now. One of the implants I had been given was called the Noble Mind, which vastly increased my brain's raw processing power and enabled me to act with machine-like precision. It was intended to allow me to counter the A.I. present in an Infinite Stratos system, and allowed me something like computerized piloting assist in operating my system.

Slowly, my feet began to lift off of the ground. I continued to rise, slowly, until I was hovering ten feet in midair.

"Alright, now before we boot up your thrusters, let's try some basic gravatic maneuvers." The pilot said. "Move forward."

I changed the vector of my gravatic thrust, and began slowly moving forward. I wobbled somewhat as I began to move, but I extended my arms and shifted the acceleration vector to counter and stabilized myself.

"Move upward."

I complied.

It went on like that for some time, with me following basic commands issued by the training instructor. When she finally let me use my thrusters, I managed to crash the first time I used them, but my shields absorbed the impact easily.

Eventually, it came time for the weapons test.

"So, we've outfitted you with a pair laser emitters for ranged work, plasma generators for short-ranged conflict, and a Projected blade in each hand for CQC." The instructor said. "As you've probably noticed, you also have a pair of 50mm hybrid propellant rocket-assisted pistols as handheld weapons. You're system can support others, but we've decided to keep it simple to start. Now, come at me."

"Excuse me?"

"I said come at me, bro!" The pilot exclaimed. "You'll be using these weapons on the battlefield, against real opponents, and the sooner you start practicing, the better."

The pilot drew an assault rifle and leveled it at him.

"Last chance."

I could see what was going on here. I activated my thrusters and jetted towards the ceiling, narrowly avoiding a hail of machinegun fire. I jinked to the side, nearly losing control, as my opponent raised her aim, then began jetting forward.

_I need to put some pressure on her! _I realized. If I didn't put some rounds downrange, she could just stay in one place and shoot me out of the sky. I consider my array of weapons, then realized that I had no idea how to activate them.

I grabbed the pistol strapped to my hip, leveled it at the enemy pilot as I jinked around, and then pulled the trigger.

The gun in my hand barked and jumped as it expelled rounds at more than four times the speed of sound. Rocket exhaust trails formed as the rocket motors on my projectiles ignited and sent them flying toward my instructor.

The instructor levitated slightly and began to doge along the ground, my rounds impacting and exploding around her, sending up fountains of dirt. I was doing pretty well, until my pistol clicked empty. The second the hail of mass reactive rounds stopped, the instructor raised her assault rifle and fired a long burst at me.

My shields flared as the massive, high-velocity rounds impacted, and I struggled to dodge as I frantically reloaded my pistol.

As the magazine clicked home in the receiver of my pistol, I aimed it at the instructor again and pulled the trigger.

I controlled the recoil better this time, and actually managed to score a hit on the instructor, who stopped moving to better draw a bead on me. Her shields glowed as the massive bullet struck and exploded.

This was my chance. As soon as the pistol round struck, I charged her. I couldn't activate my Projected blade, but if I could ram into her hard enough, my sheer bulk, at least eight times hers, might be enough to do some damage.

As the cloud of smoke cast by the exploding pistol round faded, the instructor raised her assault rifle and opened fire on me. Rounds sparked off my shields, which failed as I came within range of the instructor. I felt bullets spark off my armor, the pain caused by the impacts seeming somehow distant.

She tried to evade at the last second, but I was too close. I moved to stay with her, and we collided. He shields activated as I impacted, negating some of the force of the impact. I reached out with my superior reach and grabbed for my opponent.

She ducked backwards, but one of my of my claw-like hands wrapped around her right arm. He shield flared as I applied pressure and pulled her towards me, raising my leg for a kick at the same time.

I yanked her toward me and kicked her at the same time. My foot impacted with bone-shattering force, and my instructor was thrown upwards in my grasp, her assault rifle disintegrating as it flew away from her.

As I spun her over my head, she activated her thrusters and broke free of my grasp and flew upwards towards the ceiling. She re-materialized her assault rifle, and emptied the magazine at me.

I screamed as the bullets impacted, then activated my thrusters and shot upwards, intent on repeating the trick.

Unfortunately, I didn't quite realize just how close to the ceiling she was. As she dodged to the side at the last second, I discovered my mistake.

It should be a testament to the design skills of the late Professor, and my own hard-headedness, that I even held together impacting at that speed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Reckoners**

**Chapter 2**

"You know, it's really amazing." Nora said, looking at me.

The two of us were sitting in a hastily converted passenger area on an intercontinental jet own by one of the directorate's front companies. The seats were comfortable, but it had been more than ten hours since we had boarded the plane in secrecy at a cargo terminal, and it was starting to get uncomfortable.

"What is amazing, Nora?" I asked, internally rolling my eyes. "I believe we've established I can't read minds."

"It's just amazing that you're still alive." Nora said. "I mean, no one should be able to survive plowing into solid stone at that kind of speed. You're not even brain damaged!"

"I feel so flattered." I said.

"You should. Not everyone has a skull as hard as you."

"Actually, I don't think _anyone_ has a skull as hard as me." I mused. "Mine can stop rifle rounds."

"Point." Nora said. "Anyway, we're going to be landing soon. Do you remember your mission?"

"Maximize my profile." Is said. "Refuge is audacity. If I can't slip under their radar, fill it up. I need to be a big enough thing that they can't just discreetly dispose of me. To that end, I need to demonstrate the superiority of my weapons systems by defeating personal I.S. users in sanctioned or unsanctioned duels, while generally feeding the media. I also need to learn about I.S. tactics and how best to counter them, as well as gather specs on the most advanced units of other nations."

"Good." Nora said. "Now, you may think that-"

"I do have one question." I said. "How am I supposed to demonstrate the superiority of my weapons system if it's not actually superior? I couldn't even beat my instructor, and these girls will have years of training on their sides."

Nora shrugged. "That's your problem. Impossible missions are as old as warfare itself, and so is the fine tradition of foot soldiers rising to the occasion. Cheat. Get inside their heads. Think laterally. Plus, you've got more firepower than any of them, now that you know how to activate your weapons systems. Use that."

"Alright." I said, unconvinced. I wasn't sure how I was going to do, but I was going to do my best to survive.

"I'll be there too." Nora said. "But I have my own assignments, and I won't be in classes with you. You'll have to rely on yourself. Oh, and we have one other contact here, but we can't tell you who they are so as not to compromise their identity. There's a one-time transponder in your bag that serves as a panic button to call them, though."

"Ok." I said, then checked the status readout wired to one wall. "We're going to be landing soon. I think we should pack up."

[x]

The I.S. Academy was a surprisingly large place. Located on its own island (Japan has no shortage of those), accessible only by VTOL aircraft or a dedicated monorail, it is one of the most secure yet still technically public places on earth. It has the tightest anti-air grid on the planet, and the Japanese government keeps a pair of freighters (nobody maintains real warships anymore) carrying massive missile batteries on station near the island in the event of an attack by sea.

And if you wanted to attack using an I.S.? Well, several percent of the just under five thousand I.S. Cores in the world are located there, with state-of-the-art bodies to match. The instructors are some of the best pilots in the world. It would be suicide

In any case, given that the student body is smaller than that of my high school, you wouldn't expect it to be nearly so large, even given the massive faculty and associated research staff. However, no expense was spared in making it the best institute of learning possible, and just about the only thing the Academy can't do is grow its own food.

When we arrived, we entered through the cargo entrance, so as to avoid the throngs of reporters camping out at the entrance. With two males enrolling in the most prestigious learning institute on the planet in one day, they were like sharks that smelled blood.

As a bleeding seal, that made me uncomfortable.

_You're not a seal_. I reminded myself. _You can fight back. You swim among the greatest predators of our era, but you are a hunter yourself._

After passing through the cargo scanners, Nora and I boarded the monorail, which set out for the island. I drew a few strange looks on the train, but no one approached me. We disembarked, and there we parted ways.

"I'm going to the Engineering department." Nora said. "If you need me, call. Your phone can burn through most jamming, so there shouldn't really be any problems. You know how to get to your classroom, right?"

"Yes, mother." I said.

"Hey." Nora replied. "You're very important to our country. It's only natural that I worry about you."

"Fair enough." I said. "Anyway, I know how to get to my classroom. Fare thee well."

"Don't talk like that."

With that, we began walking away. Within seconds, Nora passed out of sight, and I went on my way.

A few minutes of walking later, I came to my classroom, Class 1-3, and and the door slid open silently. I looked in. Most of the class was already present, I stepped forward and entered, drawing gasps from most of the class.

I walked across the front of the classroom, feeling the eyes of my classmates on me the whole time. I picked an empty seat near the back, next to the window, and sat down. I inserted my identity card into the holographic desk, and immediately my name appeared on the vertical display bar, and an interface appeared on the surface of the desk.

A moment later, the door slid open again and a tall, blue-haired woman entered. She wore a U.S. Air Force uniform which, though neatly pressed, seemed slightly too large for her. She walked across the front of the room with neat, measured steps, the heels of her boots clicking on the polished floor. As she turned to face us, I could see that her fruit salad was quite extensive, and she wore several decorations.

"Hello." She said warmly. "I'm your homeroom and aerial combat strategy teacher, Amberly Trace. I hope we have a great year together. So, let's start with introductions. Now, we have a rather... atypical student with us today, so if you'd like to start us off, Mr. Highstorm?"

I sat up in my seat. "Yes sir!" I snapped, then realized my mistake.

Straightening my tie as I stood up, I cleared my throat.

"Hello. I began. "I am Kelwin Highstorm, secret weapon extraordinaire. Now, I'd offer to lick any man in the house, excluding madam Trace, but that would be ungentlemanly of me, and to be honest, I'm still learning my own capabilities. I enjoy reading, geopolitics, miniature wargaming, macroeconomics, cooking, and studying power dynamics. My favorite weapon is the rocket-assisted rail cannon Mk. VII, and I hope to have an excellent year with you all.

I sat down quickly. Thank God they spoke English here, and thank God I had spent an hour on the plane practicing my introduction. Hopefully, it would be enough information on me to satisfy my classmate's curiosity, without giving away anything important.

Introductions then went on for the rest of the class. There were Representative Cadets in my class, a surprising number of them. I wondered why that was.

As introductions finished, Mrs. Trace turned to the holographic board and opened a display on the basics of the Infinite Stratos system. As I watched intently, a message appeared on my screen.

_Hello, _I read. _Nice to meet you, Mr. Highstorm. May I call you Kelwin Y/N?_

I reached forward and tapped the 'Y' key.

The response came a moment later. _Thanks. I'm Charanda Smith, Representative Cadet from India. Nice to meet you!_

I thought for a moment before typing out my response. _Pleasure to meet you too. Are we allowed to use this chat function during class?_

_Probably not_, Charanda sent, _but this is a unique messenger program I uploaded to the desks while we were waiting for the teacher. The security is so laughable I think they want us to hack the desks. So feel free to chat away. _

_Alright them. _I responded. _So you're a representative cadet? Do you have a personal unit?_

_Yup!_ She sent. _Shiva Crusader. It's a 3rd Gen, multi-limb prototype for medium range engagement. _

_Shiva Crusader is an interesting name._ I responded. _How that get selected?_

_I named it. _Charanda sent. _My dad is English, and I wanted something of his heritage in the name. Besides, it was either that or go with _Naan Violence_ like the design team wanted. _

_Alright, so it beats the alternatives_. I sent.

_What about you? _Charanda asked. _I heard that you don't use an I.S. What do you have?_

_I'm a Cuirassier. It's a biomechanical system. _

_How can it match an I.S., though? I wasn't aware that there was any organic system even remotely on that level._

_Heck if i know. _I sent. _I didn't design the thing. I just fight it. Besides, it's not as if anyone knows how an I.S. works. _

_Point. _Charanda sent.

"And now," Ms. Trace said suddenly. "It's time to pick a class representative. Are there any nominations? You can nominate yourself or another person."

A girl stood up immediately. She was on the shorter side, and was Asian, Chinese, unless I was much mistaken. "I nominate myself." She declared. "As the daughter of the Premier of China, I have both the leadership experience and prestige needed for this position."

The Chinese princess, Shu Zheng. Her father was a man I respected, if only because he was a man who retained his power in these times of female dominance. Less because he was a bloodthirsty murdered and psychopath, but everyone has their flaws, right?

His daughter was supposed to be an I.S. prodigy, and if she reached her full potential, it would give the Premier an enforcer of immense power, unless she decided to take the country for herself.

Did I want her to be our class representative? I wasn't sure. If I-

"I object." Someone said.

An Indian girl stood up. She was significantly taller than Shu, and had a sort of noble, exotic beauty. Is saying that racist? I don't know. Race issues have taken a backseat to gender politics these day, though, so I'm not sure that it matters. In any event, she was rather hot.

"I will not stand for this Chinese brute commanding our class." She announced. "I nominate myself, Charanda Smith, to the position."

"Oh?" Shu said, turning to face Charanda. "You want it, huh? Then fight me for it. I challenge you to a duel for the title."

"Bring it." Charanda responded. "Right here, right now?"

"Oh no." Ms. Trace said. "If we're going to do this, we're going to do it right. Code Duello and all that. Ms. Zheng, propose a Field of Honor. May I suggest the athletics arena?"

"Ok." Shu said. "I'll take it. High noon tomorrow."

"Fine." Charanda said.

"Wait a second." I said, standing up. "Doesn't Charanda have a right to propose a Champion? She was the challenged party, after all. I would propose myself. A gentleman shouldn't stand by when a lady is challenged.

"I hardly think your sentiments are relevant in this day and age." One girl said. The rest of the class just looked at me, strange expressions on their faces.

"So the Imperialist jumps to defend his pet." Shu said. "Me and my Little Red Book can take both of you. You'll see the superiority of Chinese engineering."

"I can't allow that." Ms. Trace said. "It has to be even. Is anyone willing to fight alongside Ms. Zheng?"

No one moved.

"She will!" Shu declared, pointing at one girl in the front row.

"I will?" The girl in question squeaked.

"Yup." Shu said. "Rozalia Regina will fight with me, Ms. Trace."

"Um..."

The teacher clapped her hands. "Then its settled." She said. "Tomorrow at high noon. Everyone, be there! Class dismissed."

"Well," I muttered, to no one in particular. "That escalated quickly."

As I stood up and removed my identity card from the desk, Charanda approached me.

"Hello." I said.

"That was unnecessary. You shouldn't have intervened. That was my fight." She said, then slid next to me and placed an arm over my shoulder. "But is was cute. So, we're a team. Let's go to lunch, teammate."

"Um, Okay." I said.

Charanda grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the door.

"Let's talk strategy." She said, as we exited the classroom and made our way toward the cafeteria. "What are your capabilities?"

"We'll, I'm faster than an I.S. on a straight sprint, but a lot less maneuverable." I began. "Fully kitted out, I have a lot of firepower, more than most non-artillery I.S. units. However, my energy shield is weaker, so I can't shrug off as much punishment. But I do have a fair amount of field-reinforced solid state armor, and limited regen, so that's a mixed bag."

"You're talking like there's no difference between you and your... Cuirassier. Come to think of it, what do you call your unit?"

"It doesn't have a name." I said. "I just got it. I haven't really settled on a name yet."

"Well, you should." Charanda said. "An I.S. is like a partner to you. It deserves a name."

"The Cuirassier isn't exactly an I.S." I muttered. "Anyway, who was that girl that Zhu conscripted? What unit does she use?"

"She was Rozalia Regina, the Polish Representative Cadet." Charanda said. "According to my research, she pilots the Arcane Hussar, a powerful and mobile unit developed as part of a U.S.-Polish collaboration. It has a secondary pair of wings that house powerful missile batteries, and a Shock Lance for short range to close quarters combat. It's also equipped with an Ion Shield that complements its normal Energy Shield."

"Sounds like a tough customer." I said, stroking my chin. "What about Zhu? What do we know about her unit?"

"It's also designed as an all-arounder, but like most Chinese I.S. units, it has an emphasis on closer-range engagement." Charanda said. "It uses an array of three hundred sixty degrees Impact Cannons as a point defense system, and has a powerful suspensor web howitzer for ranged combat. Other than that, it has an Impact Fist for CQC and a heavy machine gun for close-range work."

"Well, her PD weapons won't affect my laser weapons." I said. "What are your weapons, anyway?"

"Well, my I.S. has six arms, and each fist can fuse together into a nearly indestructible state, and hits pretty hard." Charanda said. "I can use six standard I.S. Weapons, and I have a Tesla Cannon mounted on my wing array that can do some pretty serious damage."

"Tesla Cannon?" I asked, grinning. "How's that work?"

"It fires a positively charged ionizing beam, followed by a massive electrical discharge." Charana said, returning my grin. "It can do some serious damage, especially to sensitive electronics."

"And I doubt that point defense would have much effect on it." I mused. "Ok, I think this is what we do. I bum rush both of them, get inside the arming radius of at least one of their artillery weapons. If I get close to Shu, I barrage her with my lasers and swing my Projected blades around, maybe even hitting her. If its Rozalia, I'll try and get inside the reach of her lance and body slam her or something."

"You do know that these people are some of the best their generation has produced, right?" Charanda said. "And what do I do while you're presumably getting cut to pieces?"

"You shoot at the one I didn't engage." I said. "This plan prevents them from going two-on-one against one of us, and if necessary, you can shoot into the melee with your Tesla Cannon, but only the Tesla cannon."

Charanda raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"The Cuirassier is shielded against electrical discharge, but its not immune to them, so let's not rely on that strategy." I said. "Other than that, do you think you can beat one of them in an artillery duel, or close and win in CQC?"

"I'm confidant." Charanda said.

"I'll contact my engineer and make sure that I can secure all of the necessary weapons for the fight." I said. "Other than that, it sounds like we have a plan."

"Let's get some lunch." Charanda said.

[x]

"You did WHAT!" Nora exclaimed.

I pulled the phone away from my ear as she shouted, winching. I was walking away from the main classroom building toward the training arena for the practical class, talking with Nora. I had just finished relay the information

"What's the problem?" I asked. "You said to get into duels, so I did."

"That's not it." She said. "First of all, you picked a fight with Shu Zheng. Even if you win, which is unlikely, the political consequences could be severe. And why did you team up with the Indian representative?"

"What do you mean?" I asked. "What's the problem?"

"You just jumped up to defend her like some kind of fething Knight! This is 2027, not 1027! What were you thinking?"

I frowned. "What does that have to do with Charanda specifically?"

"She might interpret it the wrong way." Nora said. "I mean, it could be easy for a girl to see a guy jumping to her defense as something other than him simply grabbing a chance to show off his state-of-the-art weaponry."

"You're worried she might take it as an insult?"

"NO!" Nora exclaimed. "She's attended an all-girls school for I.S. pilot candidates in India her whole life. You might be the first man outside her family that she's ever interacted this closely with in over a decade. And you just jump up to protect her like some kind of storybook hero. How do you think she's going to react?"

"By calling me and outdated chauvinist and hating me?" I said.

Nora sighed. "How in the world did you get this jaded?"

"Me? Jaded?" I said. "Never."

"Anyway, try not to get killed during Practical class." Nora said, then hung up.

I slipped my phone back in my pocket. _I wonder what she was talking about._


End file.
